American Paranoia
by shiawasena neko
Summary: Historical one-shot. Wilson has a massive panic attack during the 1938 "War of the Worlds" Radio broadcasts. Probably OOC.


A/N: I wrote this about 6 years ago for a prompt on LJ. I recently re-read it and thought it'd be fun to post here. I can provide proof of authorship, if necessary.

30 October, 1938. Princeton, New Jersey.

After a twelve hour shift at the hospital, James Wilson wanted nothing more than to go home, have some dinner, and relax while listening to the nightly broadcasts.

By seven o'clock, he had accomplished the first two of these things and found himself sitting in his living room, drink in hand. Taking a sip, he sighed to himself as he turned the dial on the radio. Yes, it had definitely been a long day.

Expecting to hear music, Wilson was surprised when news bulletin come on the air.

_"Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our program of dance music to bring you a special bulletin from the Intercontinental Radio News. At twenty minutes before eight, central time, Professor Farrell of the Mount Jennings Observatory, Chicago, Illinois, reports observing several explosions of incandescent gas, occurring at regular intervals on the planet Mars..."_ It began.

Struck by the strangeness of the report, Wilson listened intently, but again relaxed once the report was over. He enjoyed his drink while a few more songs played.

And then, another interruption.

_"We are now ready to take you to the Princeton Observatory at Princeton where Carl Phillips, our commentator, will interview Professor Richard Pierson, famous astronomer. We take you now to Princeton, New Jersey."_

Wilson almost choked on his drink when he heard this. What were the announcers doing in _his_ town?!

He sat on the edge of his seat as he listened. Though the interview was fairly mundane, Wilson felt uneasy by the constant reference to such strange places as Mars.

And the music returned for awhile, until another news bulletin broke through.

_"We take you now to Grover's Mill, New Jersey."_ That was only about ten miles away!

What proceeded was an account of an object having landed in a field, apparently having fallen from space.

Wilson felt himself tense up. Could it be that martians had landed on earth? He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he listened. And then, confirmation: _"The metal casing is definitely extraterrestrial - not found on this earth."_

Wilson felt himself starting to tremble. It only got worse as the broadcast wore on.

_"Wait a minute! Someone's crawling out of the hollow top. Someone or something. I can see peering out of that black hole two luminous disks. Are they eyes? It might be a face..."_

He began hyperventilating. What were the aliens going to do? Were they evil - ready to kill any human that came near them? Were they going to destroy the town, the state, the country? Worse, the world?

A million thoughts raced through Wilson's mind.

But, despite the fact that his instincts told him to run and hide, he couldn't tear himself away from the radio.

_"A humped shape is rising out of the pit. I can make out a small beam of light against a mirror. What's there? It's a jet of flame springing from the mirror and it leaps right at the advancing men. It strikes them head on! Good Lord, they're turning into flame! Now the whole field's caught on fire - the woods, the barns, the - the gas tanks of the automobiles - it's spreading everywhere. It's coming this way now, about twenty yards to my right -" _

And then the sound cut off.

Wilson felt like he wanted to scream, cry even, but no sound came out when he opened his mouth. Legs shaking, he stood up from his chair and walked to his room, where he kept a shotgun that his father had given him. And then, quietly, as if to being quiet might help deceive the aliens into thinking he wasn't there, he made his way to the kitchen, where he ducked under the table.

Wilson clutched the shotgun to his chest, and rocked back and forth. Once the broadcast came back on, explaining the limited _details of the catastrophe at Grover's Mill"_, the tears that would not flow earlier finally did.

He was terrified, absolutely terrified. The shouting of others that had heard the broadcast could now be heard in the streets, making the night all the more surreal.

Maybe, he thought, it would be good to join his neighbors. A large group had a better chance of defeating any invaders than he alone.

Then again, the aliens might easily destroy large masses of people, and maybe he could survive if he remained undetected.

Wilson finally decided that it would be best to remain in his current position.

The shouting the streets grew louder. Women were screaming, crying, begging for help. The radio announcer was now telling how _"the battle which took place tonight at Grover Mills ha[d] ended in one of the most startling defeats ever suffered by any army in modern times."_Apparently, dead bodies were _"strewn over the battle area from Grover's Mill to Plainsboro, crushed and trampled to death under the metal feet of the monster, or burned to cinders by its heat ray._"

Hearing this, Wilson finally broke. In what can only be described as a fit of fear-induced insanity, he started screaming hysterically and began pulling out large chunks of his own hair. He then felt warmth as his bladder released and urine soaked his pants. He didn't care, though. His time was nearly over. What did it matter if he pissed his pants? The invaders would burn his remains with their heat ray anyhow.

And then - someone was at the door. An alien? Deep inside, Wilson knew he should stop screaming. The aliens would hear him if kept up. But he couldn't, just couldn't. Maybe his death would be quick and painless. He clutched the shotgun to his chest even harder.

Yet, there was to be no death by heat rays or things of that nature. Instead of the horrible sounds of invaders, a familiar voice rang out.

"Can you believe these idiots?" the voice asked.

It was House.

"House?!" Wilson called out, finally regaining a bit of composure.

"Yeah, its me. Where are you?" Houses' voice got louder as he moved closer to the kitchen. "You should see whats going on outside. Bunch of people didn't hear the disclaimer before the radio broadcast and think that aliens are invading."

Wilson dropped the shotgun. "Dis...claimer?" he asked, softly.

House was standing in front of the table now, staring at the man hunched below it.

"Oh, God," he sighed, "Not you too."


End file.
